Lambs of Innocence
by The most beautiful of lies
Summary: <html><head></head>Sent on a secret mission unknown to the Generals or Vatican, Lavi, Allan and Leenalee come face to face with the Earl...in the end, who will be left alive? Read on to find out...</html>


My steps are silent, even though I know. They know I'm here. To be as silent as I can while I move is a habit born of necessity. Life or death, the silent live, the loud die. It's always been that way for me, even before I was an Exorcist. As Bookman's apprentice, I learned very fast. It was that or fall behind and be punished. Although a kind man, Bookman was far from generous. A small smile came to my lips as I admitted to myself that yes – most of the time, it was my fault. But for right now...none of that mattered. Right now, I was on a mission of my own.

Two of my fellow Exorcists and the Finders, including my own, have gone missing. No where to be found. Used to being alone, this usually wouldn't worry me, but that fact that the Earl himself was here...they had to be found. Time was running out. The only clues I had though was sound. A melody of a piano was playing, sad and wanting. I knew that melody. It was ingrained in my very soul, part of who I was. It was the song of the Fourteenth Noah. A being within a being, trapped some would say. Others would say sleeping. It was this melody that drove me forward, this melody that gave my feet a reason to move. Urgency to find them as soon as possible.

In the hallway in front of me, a red velvet curtain, the colour of blood. Symbolic in it's own right, it hangs there lifeless and limp. Through out my life and that of my fellow exorcists, we have walked through endless rivers of blood. Countless lives, given and stolen all in the name of Innocence. The very weapon we wield in the name "good". The very thing we misuse and abuse for our own gain, all to defeat the Earl. The Devil himself in the flesh come to earth to steal the souls of the lost and grieving.

As I push my way through the blood coloured curtain, I try and forget the countless deaths, the permanent stain of blood on my hands. Once through, I know what I will see. A room full of people, oblivious and dancing. Drinking and enjoying themselves. Doing what they desire and in some cases deserve. As I walk through the crowd, I will see a boy of sixteen, tall for his age and hair white as an old mans. I will see the star shaped scar on the right side of his face, hidden by his hair, in desperate need of a trim, down his eye and onto his pale cheek.

As my eyes roam over the room, past the men in tuxes and women in to low cut dresses, the air filled with sweat and desperation, hunger for anything but food...passed the crystal and silver chandeliers, the wall hangings of the same blood colour and smooth material, slipping like water from my limp fingers, I see her.

A slender beauty, she walks soundlessly through the people around her. A wraith, a wisp, trapped in an enchanted forest of bodies and people. Scents and sounds. All of it seeming to bounce off of her as she is in her own world. Under her satin gown, I know her uniform is there. Short shorts and a tank top. The shorts for ease of movement for her Dark Boots, her Innocence.

Both of their eyes are lifeless and cold. The life that was in them, the hope, love, strength, determination...all of it gone. What once was there, what once I cherished and loved in secret...gone. Lifeless. As I step away from the curtain, a feeling of dread washes over me. Deep down, I know – no turning back. Passed this point, there is no return. Oddly...I'm fine with it. I'm fine with the fact that this may be the last breath I breathe, the last step I will take. Deep down in my heart of hearts, I know I will not have died in vain.

As I step into the centre of the dance floor, I see the one I truly came for. The truth in fact was, this was it. I was all I had left, no back up would come. This mission was not one assigned from the Vatican. When we were given the folders for the mission, there we no notes, no facts, nothing. Only a simple note. A goodbye spoken with ink:

_To the exorcists who have taken this mission:_

_ For your own safety, I will not mention your names, nor my own. The whole of the Black Order thanks you for your devotion and heart for taking this mission. Know that though we may not be there in person, we are there in heart and spirit. You who have taken on this mission, know that you are loved. You are cherished. And you have done great honour to your families, names and the Black Order itself. _

_Do not stand in the shadows and linger in fear. Stand tall, bare the Rose Cross with pride and know that even in death, you will be remembered for eternity. Your ashes will be scattered to the four winds, a prayer said for the dead and lost. A pyre and feast fit for royalty will be lit and eaten in your honour, your names whispered on our lips, held in our tears, cherished in our hearts. _

_Know that above all, this mission is the most crucial, the most important. If one of you should fall, do not fall to the Earls grip. Close your heart to the inevitable. Becoming an exorcist, you knew what would happen. You knew the risks out weighed the rewards. You chose this life and as soon as you wore the Rose Cross, as soon as you became one with your Innocence, there was no going back. For those of us who destroy in hopes to save, there is never a way back, nor a way forward...only the here and now. _

_Live in the hear and now. Fight to your last breath. _

As I read that letter, I couldn't help but laugh. Fine words to sum up the outcome of this mission. Lambs to the slaughter, that's what we were. Each step I took, ever closer I got to the Shepard with his axe. When I looked at my fellow exorcists, dead eyes looked back to me and I knew they were lost to me. That was fine, already my heart was hardened against this. Forty – seven lives in the span of seventeen years will do that to a man. Activating my Innocence, I called upon the seal of fire. I knew this wouldn't work...but I wasn't aiming for the shepherd. I was aiming for the lost sheep. I was aiming for the inevitable. We would die on this mission, yes...but on our own terms. I would die on my feet, fighting until my strength left me. As the flames licked up my arms, devouring cloth, flesh and bone...searing the blood red curtains, engulfing the crystal and silver chandeliers...the men in tuxes and women in to low cut dresses melted, returning to the pitiable Akuma they truly were. And the lambs. My lambs. Their deaths would be the worst of all...but also the kindest. They were already lost to me and the world. As was I...we chose to bear the Rose Cross, chose to destroy in an attempt to save...and so we pay the ultimate price. Our lives...

As the flames engulf everything, deep down, I know this isn't the end of the war...just a battle we've more than likely lost. The price was to great...always to great. Always to much blood is needed. Always a soul is lost. Well...that's just fine. I've fulfilled my oath, done my duty. Nothing remains to chain me to this world. With the lost lambs, my heart burns. With the Akuma of the Earl, my body withers, devoured by flame of my own making. Tears escape, falling down my cheeks, the only pure thing within this room of flame. All of this, I notice and I am fine with this. There's not much I can do now anyways except...Live in the hear and now...Fight to my last breath...

And so I shall...


End file.
